Handsome and the Hog
by HamFiction
Summary: What happens when a handsome man falls in love with a hideous hog? Tale as old as time, is now as new as the prime. Except the genders are switched. Instead of a horrible prince becoming a beast, a powerless princess becomes a pig. Instead of a beautiful oddball named Belle, a handsome loner named Bello. Let's hope that a man falls in with love a pig!
1. Prologue

The eye catches the stained glass windows, the glass of color transform into a homeless, shrunken and defeated man. The man is tired and cold. He shivers, his feet slipping on the steps of the castle. He picks himself up before he falls in front of the alluring castle home to the beautiful French princess. The man regains composure, the little he has. He lifts his dirty hand. He knocks on the large stone door, a sharp sound roaring through the castle. The man hears movement behind the large stone door, he reaches out, he calls for shelter, he rumbles for the need to be warm. The beautiful princess fumbles behind the door, she opens it, the creak echoing down. She peers at the devastated man, his helpless demeanor, the beautiful princess pauses.

She needs to show her power.

The beautiful princess laughs, a laugh of emotion, the sweet melody beating his face. She immediately refuses him entry. On the outside, the princess is a powerful beauty, she can control and rule over anyone and everything. But on the inside, she is a tiny bit scared.

Because if this man came in, the man would see she is not powerful. And probably rape her.

The man thunders that she should not judge appearances, he warns her as he scavenges in his dense clothes and pulls out his pen- a carrion flower stem. He offers the smelly plant to the young princess for shelter. "Please," he begs, his voice catching in his throat. The princess gages as she looks squarely in the clean eyes of the dirty man. She opens her mouth,

" **No."**

The two-letter word vibrates across the castle, over the forest, and through the village. It ricochets to the ear of a handsome man in the village to imbue in his book to notice. Instead, he notices his itchy nose.

Back at the castle, the beggar man hollers as the two letter word bitch-slaps him across the face. In his mind he sees who she must be, a woman who does not know her place. The beggar pauses. In that silence, his excitement grows. Just before the Princess closes the large stone door he flings off his dirty clothes revealing his true appearance. The Princess holds the door open, he is a stunning sorcerer. A sorcerer with just enough muscles, with hair that flops perfectly in his brown eyes, and with a smile that could charm a rock. The Princess sees the man, sees the gaudy perfection and she cringes, her knuckles white against the door. She sees his true self, he _is_ power.

More powerful than her.

She screams an apology her voice raspy. The superlative sorcerer laughs, the steady rhythm deep and hollow. A laugh without emotion. She opens her mouth,

" **Please."**

The six-letter word disappears the moment she lets it go. It does not vibrate across the castle, nor over the forest, and not even a whisper echoes through the village. The handsome man in the village, still bathed in words of gold, does not even have the chance to consider it. The six letter word vanishes. All the handsome man in the village does, is sneeze.

The sorcerer says nothing, his laugh now only an apathetic smile. The Princess freezes, she knows this smile. A smile that is not really a smile. She knows this facile smile is just a harbinger for an arduous event. She can feel it. All her power, the power of a princess, will vanish. She knows it, she expects it. A man with power only wants more.

The majestic man opens his mouth, the words of a curse beginning to rise in his belly, up his throat, and across the air. He conjures the curse of curses. As far as curses go, this one is good.

The Princess does nothing. She just waits for it to wash over her.

The curse of curses does more than wash, it floods over her, soaking her gown of silk, hair of fudge and necklace of gems. Her eyes of jade, nose of buttons, and lips of rose vanish. She is lifted up and begins to glow an ailing pink, the thick curse absorbing into her skin. The beautiful princess melts into pink darkness. The world stops.

The world starts.

The Princess is a hideous pig.

She is not the cute kind with large eyes and tiny stouts. Instead, the kind that drip in dark splotches and squeal when they are hungry, tired, or, wait nevermind, they always squeal. The pigs that smell like the food they eat. The pigs that are the reason she is vegan. The hog of a princess plummets to the cold stone ground, the curse still sticky on her now leather skin.

The supreme sorcerer's lips do not stop, he keeps going, the words overflowing continue to spill out. He finds her servants, their measly shapes flooded with the curse. They become the household item they have dedicated their life to. A horny energy efficient light fixture in need of a sexy vacuum, an annoying digital clock, a mug with a mustache and a shot glass daughter named Flake. The curse surges over the Pig Princess's kingdom, her luscious valley, _dry_ , her inviting forest, _ominous_ , her bright castle, _dark_. The curse runs till it's feet become tired, stopping just outside the village, only fifty-seven yards from the handsome man whose eyes continue to taste his book. The handsome man in the village only wipes his nose.

The Hog awakes. She squeals and scrambles up, the world now hell. A powerless hell she will never be able to leave. A Hog Hell that will never end.

The suave sorcerer's curse has finished it's reign of destruction, and he knows it. His emotionless smile leaves his face.

He turns and casually waltzes down the steps, over the bridge, and to somewhere other than this uninviting castle. He leaves behind his beggar clothes skewed on the floor, and his peni- carrion flower stem. The Hog watches his joy and knows she should do something. She should tear down this sorcerer, should make him change her back; the Pig Princess should kill him. There are more deaths by hogs than sharks per year. But key word here is _should_ , because the Hog does not.

Instead, she picks up the stem and closes the large stone door.

The cling of the lock roaring in her ears.


	2. Bello and the Bakeress

The cling of the keys rings in his ears as they hit the stone floor. "Shoot," he mumbles, stretching his arm down and picking the rusted gold up. He flicks them back in his pocket and takes a heavy breath. He shakes his head, the few strands of hair falling in his eyes. Bello does not tuck them away. Instead, he just grudgingly begins walking away from his home.

Bello never likes to go to the village.

Even when he is picking up a new book.

Bello's feet crunch against the dirt road as he passes the first square house with red windows, he almost slips when he passes the second square house with red windows, his stride is more even as he passes the third square house. Then the fourth house, but with green windows. By the time Bello's feet stride past the eleventh square house, he arrives at the villa-

"Bonjour!"

"Bonjour!"

" **Bonjour!"**

" _Bonjour!"_

"Bonjour!"

The voices cloud together like a song that will never escape his head as Bello moves towards the tall-windowed library. He nods, waves his hand, but keeps to himself, but then his stomach growls.

"Fresh bread and rolls!" the voice of the bakeress screeches in his ear, the waft of heavy yeast perfumes him. Bello reaches across and grabs one. An identical roll to all twelve others, an identical roll to the one he picked up last week, identical to the one he burnt his piano fingers on three weeks ago, and identical to the one he will fumble with four years to come.

Bello's life is already the same it will be in the future.

He shuffles around in his pocket again, this time, instead of the gold house key, he grabs the two coins.

"Oh no, Handsome Bello you know you don't have to pay!" the Bakeress smiles her bubbly cheeks expanding like balloons. Bello tries not to stare but he cannot help but notice her nose is three sizes too small for her eyes.

"Please," Bello mumbles as he closes her warm floured fingers around the cold metal, this happens every week. And every week to come.

"Oh Bello, I always say you are too kind and too handsome for your own good, those books are too lucky to have your gaze," she pushes the coins down into her apron and lifts his chin up, she pauses, "has anyone ever told you, you should smile more." She immediately drops her hand and turns away as another identical roll is snatched off the tray.

He pauses. _No one ever tells women to smile mor-_

"Rolls!" the Baker screams disrupt his thoughts. Bello steps away as the identical flood of identical villagers scramble towards the identical rolls, like they do every day. And every day more.

Bello shoves the roll in his mouth and charges through the identical flood. He pushes left, the roll now salty mush. He doesn't really taste the nutty sponge, and if he did, he would not enjoy it. The only thing Bello really enjoys is words. Specifically, words that form sentences, that fashion paragraphs, that create stories, that haul him to another life. So Bello can escape,

escape from this provincial life.

He finally reaches the library and swings open the door, the cling of the hooked bell roaring in his ears.


	3. Laflora before the Library

Laflora before the Library

Laflora stays behind the tall shadow in front of her. She smells the yeast of the bakery to her right, she can hear the library's bell ring as the door slides open to her left. But she stays center, Laflora stays behind the magnificent huntress of a woman pacing in front of her.

"Laflora!" the dazzling tall shadow turns and peers down at her. Laflora reminds herself to breathe, she always forgets to breathe whenever Gastonia looks right at her.

"I'm right here," Laflora whispers. Her voice only able to go as loud as her height. Needless to say, Laflora always sounds like she is whispering.

"Yes, I can see that!" Gastonia huffs, her arm pointing out to the left. "Did you see him?" Gastonia's comely face brightens as her green eyes glaze over.

 _She's dreaming about him again_ , Laflora grudgingly thinks. She does not need to remind herself to breathe this time. Gastonia brings up Bello so much, it's like he's oxygen. And they have plenty of that.

"Yes, I saw him," Laflora whispers.

"How could you not? I mean…" Gastonia's face squeezes together, "did you see the way the sun shined down perfectly on his black hair, and that chocolate skin, I mean it was like-" 

Laflora tunes out as the Gastonia goes on another one of her Bello rambles. Her _bambles_. Laflora hears about this stupid kid's thick eyebrows, deep eyes and chiseled chin at least twenty times a day.

"- and his exquisite eyebrows-"

Laflora sighs, that makes four for today. And they haven't even had lunch.

"Do you think he noticed me?" Gastonia asks, her voice more desperate than it should be. Gastonia is beautiful, amazing and three-hundred percent perfect. Her laugh sounds like a song's melody stuck in the head, her ideas crash more than glass ceilings, and when she smells something good, she closes her eyes like she is in a dream. Laflora should tell her all of this. They should just spill out of Laflora's guts as if she was a dead dear. A dear Gastonia shot with three-hundred percent accuracy.

But key word here is _should_.

"Yes, of course he did," is the only thing Laflora manages to whisper.

Gastonia smiles. A weak smile, but then it grows, larger, bigger, wider and higher. It grows until Laflora's stale lips cannot help but follow. When Gastonia smiles, so does she. It's as catchable as a winter's flu.

"Let's go talk to him," Gastonia asserts. She does not ask it; it's something she clearly already decided on. Laflora wishes, _just once_ , Gastonia would ask her what she wanted to do.

"Food," Laflora would have said, making Gastonia laugh. Then Laflora would laugh herself and they would skip over and get something to eat. And then maybe fall in love.

Instead, Laflora found herself being dragged over towards the library. "It looks like good weather why don't we just go-"

"No," Gastonia shakes her head pulling Laflora closer and closer like she would a dog. Not even the good kind of dogs used for hunting, the kind that always poops where they're not supposed to. Like a family heirloom rug that cost more than Laflora's apartment. That is a story Laflora does not need to be reminded of.

"But look," Laflora anchored her feet down as she motions to the pub, where three very good-looking men, were looking at Gastonia. Laflora knew they were not ogling her. If they had, hell would be freezing over any moment.

Gastonia glances over at the three men, their eyes quickly shift over to the drab door, pretending they haven't been admiring Gastonia's butt for the past ten minutes. 

"What?" Gastonia screams down at Laflora, dropping her arm she had been using as a leash.

"Are you kidding me?" Laflora puzzles as she directly points at the three men. She uses her finger and rudely stabs her fingers in their direction. They start to whistle and hike into the pub. _Do not tell me she does not realize those three were-_

"Why are you pointing at the Bimbobo triplets?"

Laflora rolls her eyes. _She doesn't._

"You're being weird again, come on, he's probably going to leave soon," and off they go again, Gastonia dragging Laflora by the arm-leash to the library.

 _Cling._

Gastonia throws her over to the library window and pushes Laflora up against the glass. Gastonia panics as a man comes down the steps.

It's not Bello.

"Phew," Gastonia's sigh of relief is so loud it needs to be written. Gastonia's hand clutched around Laflora's shoulder tightens. "I thought that was him," Gastonia's hot breath melts in her ear.

"You don't say?" Laflora mocks back, tilting her head back. The one thing not three hundred percent perfect about Gastonia, her breath. Today it was a mixture of poison frog's urine and beef stew. Gastonia immediately drops her arm off Laflora's shoulder and straightens her leather jacket. Gastonia's jacket does not need to be straightened, nor her jeans, nor her boots, nor her hair of spiral waves. Everything about Gastonia looks better unstraightened.

"Okay," Gastonia assures. Laflora has the feeling it is more to herself than anything thing else.

"Gastonia," Laflora reaches out and brushes a nonexistent dirt particle on her straight jacket, "you look fine." _Amazing, beautiful, perfect,_ but no, Laflora only says fine. _Stupid stale lips_.

"I do," Gastonia nods her head, the waves of hair falling in front of her head.

"I can't hear you?" Laflora begins. They do this so many times it has become second nature to Laflora.

"I am the best," Gastonia says, also second nature to her.

"I'm sorry what was that?" Laflora asks.

"I am the best," Gastonia's voice rising, she's back to her confident self now. "I am the best huntress. I am the best dancer. I am the best," she repeats the mantra as she climbs higher up the steps to the library door.

"So?" Laflora whispers. She hates this part. This is the worst part, the part that makes Laflora's stomach churn and heart melt.

"I am the best," Gastonia smiles as her hand grabs onto the handle, "So I deserve the best."

She swings opens the door, the cling of the hooked bell roaring in Laflora's ears.


	4. Bello steals a Book

Bello's nostrils fill with damp musty pages, his ears ring with the cling of the bell and his eyes dance over the horribly lit carpeted aisles of books.

Bello smiles.

"Bello!" the librarian behind the main desk pops her head out of her latest read. Some of the gray curls spill out of her knotted braid. The librarian doesn't mind, she just smiles wide as her favorite reader waltzes in.

"Bonjour!" he shuts the door behind him as it closes with a cling. Out of all the identical days, all the identical weeks and all the identical years Bello had come to this little library, he has never learned the woman's name.

It was Clara.

"Bonjour Bello, what can I interest you in today….hmmm...a heart-pounding adventure, a heart-stopping thriller, or maybe…" the librarian crawls over to his side and flirtatiously nudges him in the shoulder, "...you came in for a heart-fluttering romance."

"None of those thanks," Bello takes a step forward closer towards the books and father from the eccentric woman. "I came to return this," he hands her the large blue novel about a magical world and some girl named Mayberry, "and came to pick up the second one."

"Ohhhh," the librarian picks up her purple glasses from the chain around her neck and reads the title. "Yes, the second one should be here," the woman scratches her chin, "you know what, I think it's in the back. One second." And she's off; all further joy of chatting with Bello vanishes the moment a book is needed. Like most librarians, Clara appears lazy but will drop anything the minute a book is needed. She might even drop a baby.

Bello watches her begin to shift through the enormous bins of returned items. The woman looks more energetic than he had seen her. It's like she's the head of a book search and rescue. Bello sighs, and side steps to let another gentleman through the door. He really just wanted to get the book and go to his peaceful place to read it.

Then again, Bello turns towards the passages of books; there is nothing better than a perusal through the aisles.

He steps forward and immediately sticks his hands out, Bello likes the feels of the pages, the tall thin books up against the short fat ones, he loves the smell of clean earth, the page's a natural dirt that was meant to be enjoyed. His feet have a mind of their own as they continue farther and deeper, the books become dustier, less shiny and muster. Bello doesn't turn back or stop, he likes it. Needs it. With each step deeper in he doesn't feel so stuck.

He feels alive.

Cling.

The bell of the shop brings Bello back to his mind. He was in his head again, and now...he glances from left to right, he is in one of the oldest sections of the library. A place he hasn't been to.

Bello looks down, his hand, which had been lazily picking up the dust, is floating above a book he has never heard of. Bello reads the title and his stomach drops, it's deja vu, it has to be. Bello delicately lifts up the dark red covered book. He holds his breath and wipes across the front with his sleeve. He feels his heart beat against his ribcage. Bello's breath comes in quicker than normal.

He knows this book.

It's either that…or this book knows him.

"Bello!" a voice calls from the front of the library. Bello doesn't want to answer it, doesn't want to acknowledge it. He wants to stay here and stare at a familiar book he has never seen before.

"Bello!" a different voice calls, now two people need him. Bello still does not answer. Then he hears it. Footsteps. The sound of heels crunching against the carpet, the pounding louder and more forceful than it probably is. Bello looks at the book, he feels it absorb into his skin, call to his soul and snatch on.

Bello shoves the book in his pack.

He zips the pack up and throws it back on his shoulders as the footsteps stop.

"There you are Bello!" the librarian smiles and strides over. "I finally found that book you were looking for. It's back up at the desk," she continues to smile as she waves him over. Bello follows, he can feel the book in his backpack like it has its own heartbeat. Or maybe that's his own.

"Oh and that wonderful girl and her friend were also looking for you!" the librarian leads him back up the corridors. Bello does not register what Clara is saying. He is too busy listening to the book's heartbeat.

Thump, thump.

Thump, thump.

"Now let me just get this all checked out for you," Bello looks up just before he collides with the desk. He stops and regains himself. The book is not alive, he repeats in his head. He freezes as the librarian takes his card and rings the second Mayberry Dotter novel for him. She hands the book he now doesn't need back after the card approval, "now go and enjoy that, see you next week!" The librarian hands him the novel and turns back to her read. All evidence of the extensive search party gone.

Thump, thump.

"Excuse me, Bello."

Thump, thump.

Before Bello makes it to the door, he meets the green eyes of Gastonia.

"Crap," Bello whispers.

"What?" Gastonia asks, she immediately takes a huge step back into her short friend, LaFlower or something, Bello doesn't know. LaFlower squeaks and falls into the bookshelf behind her.

Thump, thump.

"Oh, nothing, um Bonjour Gastonia," Bello grumbles as he watches the Gastonia pull LaFlower back up to standing.

The moment Bello speaks, Gastonia lets go of her tiny friend and she goes crashing back into the bookshelf.

"Gastonia!" the small girl whispers as the books pelt down on her. Gastonia does not notice, instead, she keeps her full attention on Bello. Bello gulps down a lungful of air as the librarian from behind him rushes over to help the small girl.

Thump, thump.

"I wanted to ask you if you were...umm…"

Thump, thump.

Bello can feel the book in his back, it's practically screaming in his ear. He needs to read it now, he needs to open the cover and taste the golden words. Now!

"Would you like to go to the town fire festival with me tonight?"

Thump, thump.

Bello watches behind Gastonia as the librarian pulls LaFlower up and angrily starts re-shelving the fallen books. He needs to leave.

Thump, thump.

Now!

"Bello?"

Bello looks up and raises an eyebrow. Gastonia was not paying attention to the book tornado behind her; she chews her bottom lip and stares at him. Bello winches, this woman took eye contact to a whole new level. She was waiting for him to say something, Bello pauses. It is either a yes or a no. Dang it, he was not paying attention.

Thump, thump.

The book burning a hole in his pack.

"Yes, sure sounds good," he pushes past her and practically runs out of the door. He does not look back, he does not take a breath out, and he does not wipe the sweat off his forehead.

Only until the bell of the door clings, signaling a shut door.

Bello takes a breath out, he pats his head with his sleeve but he still did not look back. He immediately begins run-walking to his quiet reading spot. Bello never thought he was the type of person to steal a book. But now, well, there was a first time for everything. Bello's feet quickened still holding one book he will not read in his hands. And one book he needs to in his pack.

Thump, thump.

If Bello had looked back, had just glanced at the library's windows, he would have seen Gastonia jump in delight.

And push LaFlora back into the bookshelf.

Thump, thump.

Bello runs, the beat of the stolen book matching his stride. The beat of a stolen book that he has to read. That he needs to read. The title of the Tell-Tale book, _Beauty and the Beast_.


	5. Chapter 5

The Princess sleeps with the bedroom door locked. She sleeps in the locked bedroom, deep within a double-bolted castle. She sleeps in a locked bedroom, deep within a double-bolted castle, surrounded by a forest that no one ever travels through. The forest that no one ever travels through, because it is where dreams rot. The Princess will never have visitors.

But still...

The Princess never sleeps. She always feels like someone is watching her. There must be eyes in the windows, pupils in the walls, and irises in the curtains. Tonight especially, as the princess turns over on her desolate bed, as the rumpled sheets slide off her disgusting rough skin, the princess' eyes remain open.

Someone is watching her.

The no more beautiful French princess throws off the blankets and stomps down on the cold floor. She is the only one in this wing of the castle, and thus noise is something she does not care about. Even if some else were here, the princess would still make noise. At least the louder she is, the less she has to hear her own thoughts. Her stupid wretched thoughts that undermine her very existence. _You are ugly. You are weak. You will never be loved._

The French princess throws open her locked doors, and for some reason, she feels safer than when they were closed. She pounds down the barren hall, the night sky illuminating the glass mosaic windows and leaving traces of the light on the stone floor below. She continues down the magnificent staircase, where she had gracefully stepped down with her mother on her birthdays, and where she will not delicately glide down for her coronation.

Because a pig will never be Queen.

The princess grabs a small vase on a pedestal and flings it across the room. It crashes into the wall, the violent shards of pink glass exploding around her. The French princess marches right over the shards, her bare feet ripping open as they dance on the glass. She feels the pain cut through her hoofs but does nothing.

The princess continues on, past the main ballroom, through the great hall, and around the gaudy entrance. She does not look at the double-bolted door.

The door where it happened.

The glass clinging to her hooves crunch as she continues the procession. She knows where she is going and when her hands reach toward the warm golden doorknob, she pauses.

The princess looks at her wretched hand, the hand with fingers that rip and claw everything she touches. Her eyes study the beautiful door, with the dark wood carving of past stories of Queens and heroines. The tales of heroines defeating their darkness. Specifically, the tiny carving of a warrioress' proudly standing over her fallen victim. The princess's wretched hand traces one specific story. A heroine rising over the darkness, the darkness in the form of

a beast.

The princess does not cry, she can feel the tears begin their dance in her eyes, but tonight, she does not let them fall. There have been too many tear raves already, and the Princess does not think she will survive another round. She takes a breath in, and steady's her mind. _You are beautiful. You are powerful. You will be loved._ She repeats them in her head seven times, then five times more.

The princess opens the door.

And steps in.

"Again?" Lumi's voice only makes it to the person standing next to her. Well, not really a person, just an annoying clock named Cora. A clock that's time shines two minutes too fast.

"Shhhhhh…" Cora smacks her arm across, hitting Lumi in the stomach. Well, not really arm or stomach. Just parts of the purple clock base and middle of the energy efficient electric candle known as Lumi.

"But seriously? The library again?" Lumi's voice makes everything a question that does not need to be answered.

"Oh give the masteriss a break, will you?" Cora turns back to the large wooden door. The entrance to the library and the only door that does not have a lock on it. "I mean she was just turned into a pig for goddess sake!"

"Great so since I'm a candle and you are a clock we have to be happy, not moan around and break meaningless things. But if we were pigs, yes then we could destroy everything!" Lumi is using her let's-dismantle-the-class-system voice. Cora shifts from left to right, she disagrees with Lumi in most things, well, actually 99.9% of things. That 0.1% agreement is on the castle class system. Their lives were also destroyed with the sorcerer's curse, and none of the servants are groaning in the library seven nights a week.

Something needs to change.

"Goddess….why can't she just go down to town and capture the first man she sees," Lumi puts her electric candle hands on her hips, "at least with a human to talk to she might actually start feeling like her old self!" Lumi points the library door. It's closed, just not locked. "Even if it's a prisoner!"

"Wait a second…." Cora feels an idea beginning to crawl her way up to her mind. It begins in her toes; she feels it wiggle through her body and up to her mind.

"Wow, it's like I can hear the gears turning in your head," Lumi's ear presses close to Cora's face, "oh wait! No that's only because you're actually a clock!"

Cora's mind ignores Lumi, instead, it starts clicking together a plan. Then clocking the things they will need to do it.

"I think I know a solution!" Cora jumps up excitedly and scurries down the hall.

"Wait! What the-" Lumi falls, her questioning voice echoing as she picks herself up and runs for the two-minute too fast clock.

The Hideous Princess closes the large wooden library door. She reaches her ugly fingers over to lock it...there is no lock. She sighs, it comes out as a squeak, not the depressed sadden expression she was hoping for. Her voice is not even what it is supposed to be!

She turns and steps into the library. The only place she feels like herself, the person hidden behind this hideous outward appearance. She reaches out to the nearest bookshelf, the princess likes the feel of the pages, the tall thin books up against the short fat ones, she loves to smell the earth that was meant to be enjoyed. Her cut-up hooves for feet have a mind of their own as they continue farther and deeper, the books become dustier, less shiny and dirtier. But the princess doesn't mind, she likes it. Needs it. With each step deeper in she doesn't feel so alone.

She feels alive.

The princess looks up at the high domed ceiling, at the sparkling stars twirling around her. She feels the books around her, their stories, their energy reach for hers. Unlike the energies of humans, the books want hers. They want her no matter her appearance no matter what wrong sound escapes her lips.

Her ugly lips.

In the midst of the books' inviting energies, the princess feels one reach more. It pulls for her attention, it calls to be noticed. The princess follows it, up the ladder, through the circled aisle and over to the dark corner.

The book's energy flourishes when she gets closer; she perceives its dark red cover shine brighter than all the others. Her hand brushes the spine and a potent energy rockets up her arm. She reads the title and her stomach drops, it's deja vu, it has to be. The princess picks up the dark red cover book and wipes across the front with her thick leather arm. She feels her heart against her rib cage. The hideous princess's breath comes in quicker than normal.

She knows this book.

Thump, thump.

"Wait!" the sharp scream of one of her servant knocks the princess out of her transfix. Then comes the sound of tiny feet pedaling away. No one should see her like this. The princess barges forward, the book in her hand's energy beating louder than her own.

Thump, thump.

She pushes through the unlocked door and dashes past the main entrance; she does not even glance at the double-bolted door, pounds through the great hall, around the dining room, and storms up the stairs.

Thump, thump.

Once the princess gets up to her room she blasts the door shut.

Thump, thump.

And is only satisfied when she hears the lock of the door cling.


	6. Bello, his mom, and the pretty dress

Hello all you amazing readers! Thank you for reading my switched gender story, I love reading all your comments, shout out to BlueArrow I always look forward to reading yours. Okay, now onto the story, let me know what you think and I have a question at the end that I need help with!

* * *

Bello had read the book in two hours and twenty-three minutes. The entire book. He read it again in one hour and fifty-seven minutes. Bello had not been trying to read it the second time in less than two hours; he could just not put the book down.

He was seventeen minutes into the novel for the third time, when a voice called in the distance.

"BELLO!" the voice in the distance became less distant, the quiet leaves became less quiet, and Bello's solitary reading spot became less solitary.

"Bello!" the leaves broke apart as his mother tumbled through. Her tiny body flailing and then falling to the thick ground below. She landed softly on the wet moss and stayed down. She smiled, the large lips peeling apart as she beheld the moss beneath her.

Bello sighed; he knew that look all too well.

His mother pulled out her silver magnifying glass and aimed it at her landing spot. The same glass Bello had given her for a birthday almost ten years ago.

"Mom," Bello jumped off the low tree branch that fit his butt and head like it was bent just for him. The tree branch seat he had discovered by accident while trying to run away from a feral barking dog. But now, now it was the only place he could truly be himself. He was almost in Chapter 3, the part where the heroine is almost about to find out...but...as his mother tumbled in, he quickly snatched it away into his pack. That telltale heartbeat once again burning his skin.

 **Thump, thump.**

"Hmmmm…this must be a _Hypnum_ ," his mother's face was smashed against the magnifying glass as her hazel eyes examined the speckled moss that had kept her fall from worsening. Bello was told he had the same beautiful eyes as his mother, but with them blowing up behind a magnifying glass, he kinda hoped not.

"Mom what do you want?" Bello stood only a foot from her and yet all her attention remained on the sticky moss in her clean hands. Bello's mother Maura was a world-renowned biologist, obsessed with the life around her, rather than the one right in front of her.

"You know what? This might actually be a _Funaria,_ " his mother stated, as her now moss caked hands reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a clear glass specimen cup. She placed a square of moss in like the last piece to a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle.

"Mom!" Bello's shadow fell over his mother's tiny frame. She pushed the cup into her pocket and stood back up, her tiny height not even making his shoulders. Bello was not too tall, it was just his mother was too short. Her eyes bulged out from behind the magnifying glass she still had in front of her face.

She brought it up and peered at Bello. "What were you reading?" her voice was a solid rhythm that Bellow had spent years, days, and months listening to. The easy voice that taught him to read more than words, think critically about life and laugh when things went wrong. It was also the methodical voice that always knew when he was hiding something.

 **Thump, thump.**

"Just an old book from the library," Bello could still feel the scorching book pulse on his back, as his mother's gray hair creep closer, he prayed she could not hear it.

 **Thump, thump.**

"Okay," his mother replied, "we'll leave it at that," she smiled again, "for now." Maura turned, her small frame purposefully marching in the heavy boots she never took off back towards the house. Her head swirled back and nodded for Bello to follow. He wanted to stay in his nook and read more, maybe even finish the book for the third time.

"Dinner is hot on the stove," Maura's voice was farther away, but he could still hear the thud of her thick boots.

Bello wanted to read.

His stomach growled.

Bello followed his mom.

* * *

Gastonia followed LaFlora into the back of her closet. They way back. The part of the closet that was only meant for clothes she wore in the opposing season, clothes she would never wear unless the circumstance required it and clothes she tried to forget. There was way too many of the latter.

"Oh come on...you must have something!" LaFlora's tiny frame marched to the part of the closet that did not even have a light bulb. Sure, Gastonia had a walk-in closet, but that didn't mean she used it all. Probably only about 40% of the stuff she actually wore and 10% more than once.

"Your closet is huge!" Laflora's hands stuck out as she played with the different fabrics. There were the classic wools, the non-wind resistant cotton, and the great-for-hunting plaids.

"Ya I know," Gastonia could feel the heat rising to her cheeks. She was not one to love having things others didn't. And also having things people wanted to touch constantly. "What I mean is I don't have anything to wear...that would make Bello instantly fall in love with me tonight."

Laflora's tiny feet stopped and Gastonia was suddenly glad for the racks of clothes, just so she could sidestep around her.

"Gastonia, come on, love is not appearance," Laflora turned around and faced Gastonia. Gastonia nodded, Laflora was right. _Again._ Laflora was always right, with her smug brunette curls and glasses that made her brown eyes shine, she was always there by her side. And always the tiny cricket in her ear.

The cricket that Gastonia occasionally wanted to smash.

"I know…" Gastonia sighed, her hands twirling a wool jacket that she had worn exactly two times. "This is just an important night, the fire festival."

"Hmmm," Laflora nodded as continued peeling apart the clothes crushed together.

"You know..." Gastonia couldn't seem to talk properly whenever she was thinking about Bello. Bello, the man with more knowledge and amazing ideas than anyone in town, the man with skin like melted chocolate and the heart like smooth caramel. Sure, he was a little odd, his love of books and his mother's love of quirky fungi was different than everyone else. But it was the other stuff that made his differences only more attractive. He was the good kind of different, and that is what made him so...so perfect.

Gastonia smiled, her eyes drifting off; she had been in love with Bello since the second semester of sixth grade. She could remember the exact day. It was when he came to class with his shirt buttoned wrong, his hair in need of a comb, and only wearing one sock. But he had performed a speech about Emily Dickinson that left her thunderstruck. Gastonia could even remember the exact moment she knew he was the one; it was when he had started reciting one of her poems.

"I cannot live without you," he had thundered in a voice made for television. And that was the moment he took her heart. It was as if his eyes peeled open and his voice was speaking directly from his heart.

Directly to hers. Gastonia sighed again. From sixth grade on Gastonia had been trying to get Bello to like her, dare she say even love. The hunting trophies, the polished hair, the slick riding boots, it was all for him.

Always for him.

Now, now she was finally going on a date. To the fire festival nonetheless, the exact festival her parents had shared their first date on almost thirty years ago. It had worked out for them, Gastonia wrung her hands; she could only hope the same for herself.

"Gastonia!"

Gastonia jumped back to the present, not to the happy and hopefully non-distant future, but to the nervous current time where Laflora glared back at her.

"Ya," Gastonia dropped the sweater she was numbnessly twisting in her hands.

"I said...this," Laflora held up a dress that Gastonia had never seen before. Wait, no, actually Gastonia had seen it before, but she had been able to push it far into the closet and far in her mind that the dress with the tag still stapled on had been forgotten.

"What about it?" Gastonia didn't need to ask, she knew the answer.

"This is what is going to get Bello to fall head over heels for you," Laflora smiled, a smile that usually made Gastonia smile back. But instead, the smile only brought more butterflies to her stomach and a sharp pain in her head.

Gastonia was not a fan of the pretty dress.

* * *

Bello's mother was currently wearing a pretty dress.

"You're kidding me right?" Bello mumbled through a mouthful of mashed potatoes. The mush began sliding down his mouth, he spooned it back in.

"No I am not," Maura reached across and grabbed a stuffed suitcase near his arm.

"But you have to leave today?" Bello gulped down the potatoes and stopped himself from shoveling in more. He needed to hear what his mom was actually telling him.

"Yes, this is a big Bryophyta Conference and they just had a last minute drop out, so a first second opening for me," Maura turned around and fumbled with the messy jacket pile near the door. She pulled out a dark green coat from the jacket tornado.

"But this weekend?" Bello was used to his mother going to strange biology conferences and giving presentations about evident plants and such. But this was a little sudden. In fact, this morning she was just saying how much she wanted to stay home and finally get those rose bushes in. This was all too sudden.

"Yes, they just contacted me a few hours ago," Maura grabbed her gray hat off the top rack. She pushed her hands on her hips at Bello. "I have my cell phone, you have dinner and a new book. I am pretty sure you will not need me for the weekend."

Bello weakly smiled, she was right. He would probably just spend the whole weekend reading the book another twenty-nine times.

 **Thump, thump.** (Speak of the devil)

"Okay," Bello nodded and began shoveling the rest of his dinner in.

"I will call you when I get there," Maura ran over and lightly peaked Bello on the forehead. "Have a good night sweetie," she smiled and hurried to the door, pulling the just-packed suitcases and an overstuffed cooler filled with more samples than an ice cream parlor.

Bello watched the door shut. It was Friday night and he didn't have any plans that he could remember.

 **Thump, thump.**

He smiled.

* * *

Gastonia was not smiling but she reminded herself to.

 **Thump, thump.**

She could feel her heartbeat in her chest squeezed tight by the dress. She smoothed her hands on the fabric and smiled.

Hopefully, tonight would go as planned.

* * *

"So the plan worked?" Lumi uttered in the dark corner of the castle's dining room. Well, it wasn't really dark now that her electric lighted body was there.

"Yes, the mother is coming tonight!" Cora the clock's voice didn't sound too annoying anymore, now that is was confirming the plan that would secure a possible breaking of the horrible spell. "She thinks there is some big biology conference not too far away from here."

"So she'll have to travel through the forbidding forest?" Lumi asked, jumping up and down.

"There is no other way." Cora was never one to like jumping. But with a plan going as swimmingly as it was, her feet could not stand still. "She will be here within the hour."

Lumi smiled as bright as her hands.

"We will finally have a guest."

* * *

Question: What should Gastonia's dress be like? I have no idea! Best idea gets it into the story.


	7. Open the door and into the darkness

Hello Handsome and the Hog lovers! Thank you for reading and commenting, I love everything you have to say. Thanks for the correction of French for Bello's name, but I like Bello too much to give him a new name (but thank you). If you have any good ideas for other fun names or situations or outfits let me know! Well that's it for now, and if you like this check out my other stories with switched genders. Okay, well it's thunder storming by me right now so I need to go watch the lighting erupt through the sky. Have fun reading it!

* * *

Maura was good at remembering certain things. She remembered all the names of the fifty-nine poisonous moss species, all the ways to properly dissect a fungus to keep the specimen as healthy as possible (there were exactly forty-seven ways), how long it takes a new moss species to grow in its natural habitat compared to the lab, and she also was good at remembering her son's favorite books.

But besides that, Maura was not good at remembering things. This would come into play in another five minutes. Because right now, at this very moment, the world-famous biologist Maura, was driving through the darkest part of the forbidden forest. Her tiny car, which was only driven less than ten times a year, was spudding through the dirt like an angry child baking mud pies.

Maura shivered in her thick green jacket, it didn't matter if it was summer or winter, this forest always made her wish she brought thicker socks. Maura whispered a silent prayer in her mind and pushed the gas pedal further. The car revved forward, its dying energy echoing in Maura's ears, the car was not going to last long. She peeked outside her window, the sun was just beginning to set. Maura needed to get out of here as soon as possible.

* * *

"She's going to be here soon," Cora whispered to Lumi, then realizing that Lumi was still turned on added, "shut off your lights, we need this forest to be as dark as possible. As scary as it can seem, as forbidden as it can take!"

Lumi nodded but still didn't turn her electric lights off, "oh come on! This place swallows up my light without a sweat, I'm pretty sure the biologist is going to be scared no matter if I'm off or on."

Cora growled her eyebrows sticking together in one line. Lumi knew that look all too well, she immediately turned off. "Fine, fine," she mumbled as the normal brightness around her dimmed then shut off altogether.

Their vision instantly became black. The kind of black that makes you question if your eyelids are even open. Cora the clock could not see where Lumi the light began or ended. Perfect, she thought to herself, now all we need to do is wait.

The rumbling of a tiny car on its final breath shot through her ear. I guess the waiting is over, Cora smiled to herself.

* * *

Maura was swearing to herself. She wasn't a fan of cursing. She didn't like the foul language that was only meant for drunken sailors and dirty truckers. But this was the five minutes later when Maura's tiny useless car dropped into a deep ditch. And couldn't get out.

She bit her dry lip, hoping this way it would stop herself from cursing. Maura reached into her stuffed bag, to the tiny pocket on the left, and pulled out her phone.

"Shit," she whispered. Maura was good at remembering things, just not good at remembering to charge her phone. She shoved the shiny green device back into the overflowing bag. She didn't even bother to zip it back in the left pocket. Her phone, like many other things, was a gift from her son that she rarely used. Phones were something that held her back, their constant need for attention was almost as annoying as Bello without a book in his hands. But now, in the one moment, she needed it, craved its constant glow, the phone couldn't be more useless.

Maura slammed her head against the wheel, erupting a loud beep through the forest. Maura looked up, she shouldn't even call this a forest. A forest has a beginning and an end. This dark abyss of nothing looked more like the end of the world than something that could possibly house life. The darkness began seeping into her car, she felt it like it was alive, the darkness crawling up the door and spilling through the cracked open window.

Maura said another silent prayer, this time with a few curse words, and zipped her thick green jacket up. She grasped the car door handle and stepped out.

* * *

Laflora stepped out of the way. She was walking exactly two paces in front of Gastonia, which was exactly four paces farther than she should be. Laflora should be behind Gastonia, so all eyes could be on the red dressed beauty. Laflora wasn't stepping two paces behind so she could stare at Gastonia without her noticing, no that would be weird. Laflora shook her head. She was doing it for Gastonia.

She loved Gastonia for her everything, which just happened to include the way she looked in the dress.

Gastonia didn't like the dress. The dress Laflora had forced her to wear. "He will be head over heels for you now!" Laflora had repeated and repeated. If there was anyone who could get Gastonia into something she didn't like, it was Laflora.

She almost tripped over the smooth stone. She was in the red heels that made the dress even more horrible, or better if you asked Laflora. If Gastonia could sprint over rocky terrain and jump onto the back of a horse she could take walking on a paved path in heels. Gastonia's left foot wobbled and Laflora reached a handout, or at least she thinks.

"Gastonia, you look amazing," Laflora whispers behind her, grabbing her hand and helping her back to straight.

"I do," Gastonia nods her head and stands straight, the tiny overflowing cottage of Bello in her sights.

"I can't hear you?" Laflora begins. Gastonia smiles, Laflora always knows when she needs this when she needs to feel confident again.

"I am the best," Gastonia replies, her feet against the stone solid, her heart beating in her chest less likely to explode. She passes the stupid stone gnomes in the overrun garden, around the mailbox with more mail than box and glides over the muddy puddle without wobble.

"What I can't hear you?" Laflora cheers, her voice soft, but not so soft that Gastonia doesn't hear her.

"I am the best huntress. I am the best horse rider. I am the best rock climber," she repeats the mantra as she strides to the door.

"So?" Laflora voice is barely audible, or maybe that two-letter word is just in Gastonia's head. Gastonia is too focused, she feels like a huntress again, there is only one thing in her sights, the door. She doesn't even turn to see Laflora hidden with the gnomes.

"I am the best," Gastonia smiles as her hand grabs onto the handle, "So I deserve the best."

* * *

"Hello!" Maura does her best to scream in the darkness. She didn't think her eyes were closed, but as she steps farther from the car, she realizes that maybe they are. Maura blinks, okay, no, she had her eyes open the entire time.

"Hello!" Maura tries again, and again all she hears is the echo bounced off every half-dead tree in the area. She should have charged her phone, should have brought a flashlight, should have made sure the car was not driving straight into a deep ditch. But all those shoulds do not mean anything, they only add up.

Her pile of shoulds stack higher as Maura adds another, she should stay in the car. But Maura doesn't and her foot gets caught on the ground, and she stumbles hard to the floor.

* * *

Gastonia stumbles to the floor. The crash echoing through her ears louder than the pain of the fall stings her arms. She was not expecting the door to open so easy when she twisted the handle, she wasn't expecting it to be unlocked.

"Gastonia?" Bello is standing over her, his voice surprised. She hears the rise in his voice and her stomachs flip, not because it's him, it's finally Bello, but because he is surprised to see her. Is she too early?

"Ouch," she picks herself up onto her knees, "have you ever heard of locking the door?" Gastonia suddenly realizes she is on the floor, in a dress, a very tight dress. She stumbles up, Bello's hands grabbing onto her waist and helping.

"Have you ever heard about knocking?" Bello laughs and drops his hands. Gastonia can feel the place where they were, the smooth sensation of Bello chocolate skin warming her sides. She would love to know how that feels everywhere. She readjusts the one strap on her shoulder.

"I guess not," she fumbles and stands straighter, remembering Laflora's words. If you want respect, keep your back erect, Laflora had pointed out more often than not.

"What are you even doing here?" he laughs as she meets him in the eyes. Gastonia's heart stops as she soaks in his words, as she stares at his uncombed hair, his rumpled shirt, his dinner plate still halfway full. She sees the book clutched at his side.

"I thought we had plans," Gastonia breaths.

Bello stops breathing. Just five minutes ago he was enjoying a meal built for two but even more perfect for one on his plate. But now, five minutes later, after the door came crashing open, Bello finds himself staring at the most beautiful woman he had seen.

Gastonia poses in front of him with all the confidence of the best. She knows she's the best he can tell. Her dress is the skin-tight kind, that hits every curve and every muscle she has earned. Her sleek hair is pulled back and Bello forgets how to breathe as he stares at the scarlet red dress, a long slit up the side revealing her long leg. Her beautiful leg.

Bello drops his book.

"Plans?" his voice croaks he can't stop staring at the way her face glows, at the way this one-shouldered dress makes everything else in the world seemed so...so pointless.

"The Fire Festival tonight," her voice is dry and when he takes in her expression he bites his lip. Her eyebrows are low and her mouth has a slight frown. She is not as taken by him as he is of her. He immediately runs his fingers through his messy hair.

"Did I... was that…" Bello smacks his hand against his forehead, "I was reading a book," her forehead scrunches, "and you wouldn't get it but it was speaking to me," he steps closer to Gastonia, she takes a large step back, "and I just couldn't stop so then I wa-"

"No," Gastonia holds up her hand, her perfect hand. How did Bello not see this before? He reaches for it, wanting to feel how soft and strong it probably is. She whips her hand back and his drops sadly by his side. "I have waited and waited, I have done everything…everything," she steps closer, "I have won every hunting contest," her finger darts into his chest like an arrow, "shot every arrow into a bullseye, done everything perfect!" Bello stumbles back, she is taunting him, like prey.

"Ummm-" Bello almost runs into the table.

"I have done everything! All while keeping my face as beautiful as it could. All for you. You!" Her eyes erupt into a violent volcano, her face becomes almost as red as her dress, "I am the best," her voice is breathless. Bello stops, she stops. It is like everything has led up to this moment her lips jut out and she breathes "so I deserve the best."

She is inches from him now, no, even closer, only a few centimeters. Bello can just reach out, take a tiny step forward and they would be kissing. He should do it.

Thump, thump.

"Are you the best?" Gastonia leans in everything about her confident. Bello doesn't think, he takes the chance.

He smashes his lips against hers.

* * *

Maura knows she smashed something valuable, probably that new sample she just found this morning. As she flailed onto the ground, the only thing she could think about was keeping her specimen's safe. Not making sure her body was.

Maura stays on the dark ground as the pain settles. Her knee or leg, or something down there brings tears to her eyes. The pain rips through her body and screams out for her attention. "Look at me!" the pain in her leg seems to wail, "only think about me!" Maura tries not to give the pain what it wants and leans over to the side. There was nothing in her path than suddenly-.

Maura gasps as light breaks through the darkness. Maura fumbles her hands over the dirt and picks up the light. She stumbled on this! Maura looks up in surprise, she doesn't know if she should consider this lucky if it also brought her great pain. Maura grasps the light in her hand.

"Hey!" She swears she hears. Maura holds her breath. She knows this is going to sound crazy, but it was like this energy efficient light just talked to her.

"Hello!" Maura echoes picking herself up. She winces and tries not to scream. Her vision goes in and out as the pain in her leg begs for her attention. She pushes the light forward as another thing gets her attention.

Maura is not very far from a castle. She begins to wobble forward, a castle that she would very much like to be the guest of.

* * *

Deep in the shadows of the castle, Cora the clock holds her breath. The old biologist is now making her way up. Soon the curse will break, soon she and all the other servants will be free, soon the Hog Princess who got everything wrong…will finally pay.


End file.
